Nuë and the Djinn Ch. 06

I am continuing to submit the chapters, but they are not releasing chapter 4. Maybe there is just a delay. -H

Chapter 6

Rasmin had given her his ash cloak, wrapping it around her. They were still in the tower. The sorcerer was gone. She cried out in relief when Mihel opened his eyes, that intense blue. Nuë put her hands on his chest, beginning to cry. "Forgive me, Mihel."

Mihel's eyes shifted to her, roaming her face. His hand rose to her cheek, touching the wetness, stroking. "There's nothing to forgive," he said in that voice so deep it rumbled with an echo, the ache in her easing to hear it. "It was my fault."

"That's true," Rasmin agreed.

Mihel sat up quickly, Nuë moving, surprised. Mihel grimaced with the movement, his teeth coming up and his eyes finding his brother.

"I'm going to kill you," Mihel said to Rasmin, panting.

"I know," Rasmin said, opening drawers and spilling their contents, mixing them deliberately. He let a glass beaker fall to the floor, shattering. A jar followed it, a stench rising that he drew away from sharply. "But you're hurt and you can't catch me. You're going to have to wait a small time, brother."

"I thought he was better," she said, looking up at Rasmin.

"It was a deep wound," Rasmin said, his face almost as ashen as the cloak around her. "I don't have all my strength. The wards took it. He'll need time to finish healing. We'll go in a moment. I have to release the magic in these objects."

Rasmin was still walking around the room, destroying everything he found. Mihel reached for her, Nuë moving carefully, afraid to hurt him. He pulled her onto his lap, his arm behind her head, the cloak coming with her. Above them and across the room, Rasmin made a sound of disgust and dropped something, stepping on it. He threw a book into the fire, which flared. The carnage continued.

Mihel looked down at her, opening the cloak a little, his hand slipping in. She watched as the blue in his hand began to glow, touching her body.

"You should save your strength," she said, covering his hand with hers.

"Let me do this, Nuë," he said.

Everywhere his hands passed, the pain stopped. He touched her nipples, passing over her bottom, Nuë sighing with relief, all the stinging ache gone, cupping her sex. She felt him hardening under her, surprised, and frowned at him lightly.

Mihel shrugged one shoulder. "I missed you."

His hand stroked between her legs. She squirmed, glancing at Rasmin. Mihel's hand left her and he looked deeply into her eyes. She knew he was looking at her spirit. But she'd already decided before she'd done this. Her mistake would take nothing more away from them.

"That ugly, disgusting pervert," she told him, her chin raising. "That dog. He can't touch me inside. He ran from me like a coward."

"I can't believe he disappeared," Rasmin said irritably from across the room.

"I stabbed him," Nuë said. "Maybe he'll die, Rasmin."

"It's Luta," Rasmin said to her absently, breaking something else. "How is my brother?"

Nuë's eyes shifted to Mihel, but Mihel didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge that his brother had even spoken. She heard Rasmin--Luta--sigh.

"He's alive," she said.

Mihel's brother held up a thick bottle, the contents obscured. He threw it into the fire.

When they were ready, Rasmin--Luta--supported Mihel down the stairs. Nuë was anxious, people all around them and the brothers moving slow, both of them hurt. When they arrived at the bottom, she looked and they were gone.

"Can you find your way back to the public house, Nuë?" Rasmin--Luta--said, his voice raw. "We'll follow."

She was worried that Mihel hadn't said anything. Nuë pulled the hood of the ash cloak over her head. She walked down the streets, finding the right ones. People drew away, seeing the ash cloak, although it was too long and it dragged behind her. She bunched it in front, trying to hide that.

She snuck around the back of the public house when she found it, opening the door and waiting. She looked, going down the hall, finding their room. She drew the door open, waiting, and then she came in, locking it behind her.

Mihel appeared, sagging on his brother. Luta put him on the bed, staggering himself.

"What do you need?" Nuë said to him.

"Rest, little sister," Luta mumbled, falling into bed beside his brother. "We'll heal. We need time."

In a moment, both the brothers were still, so still that Nuë went to them. She sat next to Mihel, just looking at him. They had retrieved him. She finally got up and went to Luta. The ifrits were both breathing. Luta's burns were terrible. She dressed quietly and went to the pitcher, putting cool water on a rag, tending to Luta, ripping up one of his shirts and wrapping his arms, Luta never stirring. That night, she curled up on the floor to sleep.

In the morning, she left the room to go to the place where people here relieved themselves, disgusted again by the smell. She snuck out to the well, filling her canteen. Night came and they hadn't woken.

The next morning, the brothers still didn't wake. Nuë hadn't eaten the day before. She finally took money from Luta's purse, feeling guilty, but she didn't want to take gold where people could see it. She was anxious to leave for so long, not able to lock the door since they couldn't let her back in, but she needed to eat.

She slipped down the hall and into the main room. It was noisy, people staring at her, a lone Sidean woman. A man who was walking turned to follow beside her, saying something to her. She backed up and faced him, her hand on her knife, shaking her head. His eyebrows rose. He put his hands up, stepping away from her. Nuë moved on, watching him.

She went to the innkeeper, who was standing by the door. She pointed to the kitchen, making motions to her mouth, gesturing to the purse in her other hand. He nodded, signaling a woman. The woman returned with a cloth bag. Nuë counted out coins into the man's palm, going slowly, her eyes on his face. When he looked satisfied, she nodded her thanks.

She made it back to the room, going in quickly and locking the door. She opened the bag, her hands shaking. There was hard cheese, fresh bread. An apricot. Some kind of meat she gnawed on, her stomach grateful for it, drinking from her canteen. It was her only meal that day. That night, she curled up on the floor and slept again.

#

Nuë woke the following morning to a touch on her cheek. His eyes were that blue, intense, his face familiar and beautiful. She remembered what they'd done. He was here. Mihel leaned in, the kissing he did, touching his mouth with hers, straightening. He slowly smiled at her. She smiled back, feeling so light, reaching with her hand and touching his face.

"Don't go anywhere, beautiful incora. I'll be right back," Mihel said.

"Where are you going?" she said, catching his hand when he tried to rise.

"To kill my brother. I'll be right back."

"No," she said, putting her hands on him, grasping his shirt, pulling him back.

Mihel yielded, coming down again, removing her hands and taking them gently in his. "Don't feel bad. You can go so you don't have to watch, little incora, but don't go far. It's not safe in Heltas."

Nuë sat up, frowning at him. "What are you thinking?" she said sharply.

"What do you mean?" Mihel said, frowning back at her.

Both of them turned when Luta sat up, running his hand through his hair. Luta sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting to be killed, evidently. Nuë looked back at Mihel.

"You're going to kill Luta," she said, gesturing at Mihel's brother, "who saved me on from men who were going to do terrible things to me when I was trying to get to you? Who kept me safe the whole journey?"

"Who gave you to the sorcerer to hurt," Mihel said like she was crazy. "Have you forgotten what just happened?"

"What else was he supposed to do?" she said. "Do you know what my plan was? To knock that dog over the head with a rock by surprise and put my knife in him. How do you think that would have ended? You think I was going to stop? You think I was going to give up, not try? You have known me for hundreds of years. Am I going home? Am I saying to myself: 'Here is Mihel, trapped with a sorcerer because I betrayed him, but let me go take a bath in the river and maybe catch some fish to eat for my supper.' Does that seem right to you?"

"Don't try to tell me that was your plan--" Mihel began, his finger coming up and pointing at her, his voice loud and rumbling.

"Don't you shake your finger at me, ifrit!" she cried at him, outraged. "It would have been my plan if I'd thought of it. Luta didn't want to tell me. He knew you were going to be so angry at him, that you wouldn't forgive him. He knew it was the only way to free you and I told him that I would not be hurt in my spirit no matter what that dog did to me. And now you have this gift we have given you, me and your brother, your freedom. This brother who loves you so much that he risks everything for you. And I am unhurt because I want to be with you and I don't want that taken from us, and you want to kill the person who made this possible?"

"Yes," Mihel said, nodding.

Nuë shoved out of her blankets, going to her pack. She set it on the floor, putting things in it, her movements jerky. She didn't look at him, getting her boots.

"Don't get upset, little incora--" Mihel said, standing up.

"I don't like you anymore," she said, lacing her boot. "I'm leaving."

Mihel turned to Luta, gesturing at her. "Look what you've done," he said, turning back to her, picking up her pack and taking things out she had just put in. "What are you saying, my light? You can't go anywhere."

She stood and took her pack from him, shoving the things back inside. She sat again as he came and took her other boot and tossed it over by the bed. She got up and retrieved it as he took her pack from her again, dumping it out. "Am I your prisoner? Do you think you have me like a horse telling me to go this way and that way?"

She walked to her pack, stuffing everything back in, keeping hold of her boot.

"No, of course not," he said. "I don't want you to go. Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe I will go somewhere else to live, since I'm not welcome with you."

"Of course you are welcome with me."

"No, I'm not," she said, sitting on her pack when he reached for it and putting on her second boot. "You don't want me. You don't want us to be together," she said, almost crying now. "You'd rather kill your brother for his loyalty."

"He let you be taken by this dangerous man," Mihel cried, glowering at her.

"He gave me what I wanted!" she shouted up at him, breathing through a closed throat, drawing air in. "He gave me the only thing that would make it possible for us to be together. For me to undo the terrible thing I had done and free me from my own hatred of myself for being so stupid. But that's not what you want. You would rather have been this sorcerer's prisoner and Luta dead trying to save you and me dead trying to do that because you don't want this person to touch me. Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed of what I did to come to you? You don't want me anymore because I was touched by another?" She was unable to speak more.

Mihel reached down and lifted her to her feet, gathering her up, stroking her hair. She relaxed into him, crying, all her fears said aloud into the air.

"Forgive me, incora," he said, his voice tight. "I'm so proud of you and I cloud your brave spirit. I want you."

He drew back, Nuë looking at his face. "You're sure?" she said.

He brought her into the spirit world. "I want you so badly that I'm not whole without you, incora," he said. He brought her back.

She looked more convinced, not hearing a lie. "All right. You won't be angry at Luta?"

Mihel's mouth tightened, his voice neutral. "For you, I won't kill Luta for putting you in danger."

"He made the best choices that he could and gave everything to free you, to return you to me. He knew he was giving even maybe your love for the possibility it might happen, and he still gave it. Are you so cruel? Are you going to let me be the one to drive you apart so I carry that? Will you not forgive him, Mihel, for giving you back to me?"

She saw Mihel struggle. Then his breath blew out and her own spirit was eased, her shoulders relaxing. He reached and touched her braid, and she knew he also felt it. "My spirit knows you're right." Mihel turned to his brother, glaring at him, thunderous.

Luta sighed. "I'm sorry, Mihel," Luta said. "It was a bad idea, I know. But she was going to come to you anyway. I can't take her home against her will and she has that knife and she gets so angry and she would just come back. And then when I saw the sorcerer take her into the tower instead of where he was supposed to go, I thought I had done something so terrible I wanted to kill me for you."

Mihel looked away, breathing. He turned back, gesturing at Luta. "I forgive you," he said. "If something had happened to her, I couldn't. But I forgive you for putting my incora in danger when she's still so young and almost damaging her spirit if she wasn't so strong and beautiful." He breathed again, turning and lifting Nuë into his arms, his back to Luta, settling her sideways. She rested her head against his chest, her hand, listening to his heart. Her stomach complained. She put her hand there.

"How long has it been since you ate food?" Mihel said.

"I had something yesterday," she said.

"How long have we been here?"

"A couple of days," she said. "I was afraid to go too far because I couldn't lock the door--"

"Stay here," he said, setting her down and rising, going to the door and through it.

Nuë looked at the door and then at the bed. Luta blew out his breath. "Thank you, little sister."

"I'm the one who is grateful, Luta," she said. "You gave him back to me."

"Are you all right? I never was so afraid when I saw that crazy sorcerer take you into the tower."

She looked away. "Yes, Luta. I would have endured worse," she said. "It's done."

Luta grimaced and then nodded, looking down at the bandages. "Thank you for caring for the burns."

Mihel came back, bringing a large bag. He came to her, putting it in her hand and sitting her at the table, pulling things out. He had gotten a ridiculous amount of food. She looked at all of it as Mihel turned and sat on the bed, wordlessly gesturing to Luta. Luta looked wary and came and sat beside him. Mihel unwrapped the bandages, his hands glowing blue, healing Luta's arms.

Nuë watched the two brothers as she ate, their heads inclined to one another, thinking that if she could see their lights, they would be twined. Not like a joining, where tendrils melded, but very close nevertheless. Mihel would never forgive himself if he tried to kill his brother and they both knew it. Mihel just had remembered that a little slowly.

She finished eating, her braids sticking out everywhere, suddenly feeling shy for being so messy. She wanted a bath. Nuë began to take her braids down, running her fingers through her hair. She looked up and found Mihel's eyes on her. She frowned lightly, his eyes very intense.

He rose slowly, walking toward her. "Go find some breakfast, brother," Mihel said, his eyes dropping to her breasts.

"Mihel," she scolded.

"What, my light?" Mihel said. "I want to touch you. He knows that. I know that. You know that."

"It's rude."

"He's become much more of a barbarian in your absence, little sister," Luta agreed, going to the door and opening it, Mihel sending him a glare. "Spending all his time alone in the mountains like a crazy ifrit. It's going to take another hundred years for you to civilize him again." Luta closed the door behind himself.

Mihel was coming straight to her. Nuë's eyes went wide, shaking her head at Mihel, standing up and stepping back. "No," she said.

"No?" Mihel said, very close now, backing her up. "Why not?"

"I'm dirty, Mihel," she said, hitting the wall behind her.

"I like it when you're dirty," Mihel said, leaning in, sniffing at her, finding more places. "I can smell you better."

Nuë tried to push him away, nothing happening. "No."

"I'll get you a bath later, after."

"No," Nuë threw at him, adamant. "I want a bath now. I'm messy, Mihel."

"You always look beautiful," Mihel argued. "You could be covered in bog muck and you would look so beautiful."

"This is your clever tongue I returned for," she complained.

Mihel leaned back, sighing. He turned to the door, leaving. In no time, there was a large wood washtub followed by two men who brought buckets of hot water and left and came back with more. Mihel paid them coins. Nuë came and looked, delighted, as Mihel dumped in herbs from a small cloth. There was a pitcher for rinsing and even soap.

"I like this," Nuë said, sitting and pulling off her boots, her tunic, smelling the heat releasing the herbs. "This is a good idea." She forgot Mihel, stripping and getting in. It felt good, all of her relaxing.

She dunked under and wet her hair and then stood up in the bath, steam all around her, beginning to hum. She used the soap, getting all of herself, her hands lifting and squeezing and rubbing. She took the pitcher and dipped it, rinsing herself, and again. She set it down, turned her head and froze.

Mihel was looking at her, and his eyes. She couldn't look away, just as trapped as the first day she had met him, feeling a deep sinking in her belly. She was suddenly very nervous. They hadn't been together outside of what had happened with the sorcerer, not since she had been with Fada tribe.

She took a shaky breath, letting it out. "I am almost d--" she said, and he disappeared.

"Mihel?" she said, slowly stepping out of the water. She walked to the center of the room and turned around in a circle. "Are you here?"

He pinched her nipple, a sharp sensation.

Nuë cried out, covering her breast with her hand. "Don't do that."

He pinched her bottom.

Nuë yelped, whirling around, striking out with her hand where she thought he would be, but he wasn't there. Then her hands couldn't move fast enough to protect herself and the pinches landed wherever he wanted--her butt and her belly, her legs and nipples, her arms. She was abruptly bent over and her legs were spread, although she couldn't see him. He began pinching her inner thighs, working his way in, Nuë jerking and voicing it with every pinch, struggling and wiggling.

"No, Mihel, don't do that!" she said, turning her head to look behind herself. "Not there."

Mihel lowered her head, her bottom up, his arm a bar under her belly. He spread her legs more. She cried out sharply as his fingers came from behind her and he began to pinch her sex, around her channel, her outer lips. She cried out with each one, getting more and more sensitive. He pinched her inner lips, sharp sensation, and her knees came up, trying to close her legs.

She abruptly found herself on her back on the bed, her butt brought to the edge and her legs jerked apart, a hand holding one leg open, his knee leaning on the other, she assumed, since she couldn't see him. The pinching began again, her belly, her nipples for a time, her thighs. Her hands were trying to ward him off, pushing at his arms, wherever she could, but it was like she wasn't doing it. She was crying out, getting frantic. He spread the lips of her sex and there were tiny sharp pinches there.

"Please, Mihel," she said. "Please stop, don't, don't do that."

She didn't stop begging, but it only got worse, and then it was a different kind of pinching, strong tugs, stroking between her legs. All of Nuë's protesting went away and she went quiet and then found herself feeling limp, letting it happen. She was suddenly slippery between her legs and so wanting.